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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27227458">What Greater Gift than the Love of Another</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bentley/pseuds/The_Bentley'>The_Bentley</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Cunnilingus, Domestic, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Gift Giving, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Kissing, Kissing in the Rain, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), South Downs Cottage (Good Omens), Vaginal Fingering</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:49:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,379</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27227458</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bentley/pseuds/The_Bentley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“What about a nice thank you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That would be appropriate after receiving a gift.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“A . . . physical thank you?” Crowley’s eyes flicked to the tartan blanket they stashed out here in case they wanted to have a picnic or stargaze.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Aziraphale’s mouth curved up into a smile, her sky blue eyes sparkled. “I can’t say I wouldn’t appreciate that.”</em>
</p><p>Aziraphale gives Crowley her first-ever gift and gets her own surprise in return.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Ineffable Wives Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>What Greater Gift than the Love of Another</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomhivemast3r/gifts">phantomhivemast3r</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale stood outside the greenhouse, plant in hand, hesitant about entering Crowley’s private space. Her wife came out here for several hours every Saturday indulging in horticulture while Aziraphale spent time cataloguing the library’s newest additions, each needing time for their chosen hobbies. Aziraphale shifted from foot-to-foot, nervous about interrupting Crowley’s alone time.  Still, she pushed forward. The plant she held in her hand was the first gift she had ever bought for Crowley.</p><p>She rapped on the door before opening it, peeking in to see Crowley had turned to peer over her shoulder at her. Aziraphale smiled and held up the pot tied with a festive red ribbon.</p><p>“I have something for you, my dear.”</p><p>Crowley brushed her gloved hands down the black apron she wore, the dirt on it raining on to the floor with the rest of the spilt soil. Pulling off her gardening gloves then her apron, she furrowed her brow at Aziraphale.</p><p>“Oh? Like a gift?”</p><p>Aziraphale proffered the plant with its bow, a blush spreading across her rounded cheeks that set off a small involuntary smile of pure love. Walking forward to her, Crowley took it almost reverentially. She turned the pot in her hands, examining the little plant with green and silver variegated leaves, her eyes darting over it as she identified the species.</p><p>“It’s a gorgeous example of a watermelon peperomia. Thank you, angel.” She leaned over to place a peck on Aziraphale’s cheek. “Why the gift? We’ve never given each other gifts before.”</p><p>The two of them hadn’t. Before the failed Apocalypse, their relationship had to be kept quiet from their respective sides, thus, purchasing physical mementoes for each other had been a practice neither engaged in. It had seemed too risky to have such items around their bases of operation where a superior could notice them. Besides, they were supernatural beings and that made their motivations somewhat different from human ones, despite the years spent on Earth. They were created, not born meaning birthdays were not a reality in their lives. They would have been hard-pressed to give their actual ages if such trivia had ever come up. Time did not exist yet when angels were created. Also, time passed differently for them, so anniversaries and the like dimmed in importance. When one had been on Earth six thousand years, a year seemed like mere days.</p><p>“I don’t know. I guess. . .well. . .why not? Why shouldn’t we occasionally treat each other to something besides lunch? What do we have to worry about now?” The answer was almost blurted out in a defiant tone. Aziraphale was shedding the effects of Heaven’s influences and Crowley couldn’t be prouder.</p><p>“Point taken.” Crowley gave her an indulgent smile before placing the lovely plant on the workbench so she could thank her wife. “C’mere.”</p><p>She held out her arms for Aziraphale who walked into them, eager for a loving hug. Crowley wrapped her thin arms around her, kissing the top of her curly blonde head. Aziraphale sighed happily, snuggling herself into Crowley’s warm embrace, even if she did feel a few grains of potting soil scraping against her cheek. This was Crowley’s domain; she was going to have to put with a bit of dirt. Gardening could hardly be accomplished without it.</p><p>“What do I get you in return?” Crowley enquired, voice muffled by Aziraphale’s shoulder.</p><p>“You don’t have to get me anything. That’s part of gift-giving. You give one without the expectation that you’ll get one in return.”</p><p>Crowley thought about it before giving a response. “Huh. Quite an interesting concept. What about a nice thank you?”</p><p>“That would be appropriate after receiving a gift.”</p><p>“A . . . physical thank you?” Crowley’s eyes flicked to the tartan blanket they stashed out here in case they wanted to have a picnic or stargaze.</p><p>Aziraphale’s mouth curved up into a smile, her sky blue eyes sparkled. “I can’t say I wouldn’t appreciate that.”</p><p>They chose the orchard for its ambience. Neighbours were not an issue since the closest ones were two miles away, and they lived on a lonely road that saw little traffic. The blanket was spread under an apple tree in bloom, and they both reclined on it, warming up with kisses. Hands placed on the sides of Aziraphale’s face, Crowley brushed a thumb over her cheek, drinking in the blue of her eyes and brightness of her smile. Her nose was perfect for kissing and that was the part she targeted first. She brushed gentle lips across its up-turned tip before moving up to kiss Aziraphale’s forehead. But those luscious lips called to her, so she migrated down towards them, covering them with her own mouth in a possessive manner. Sensuous and slow, she lingered there, feeling their softness on her own. Aziraphale’s breath puffed against her as she opened her mouth to taste Crowley. Hands tightened on shoulders.</p><p>
  <em> I want you. </em>
</p><p>It wasn’t spoken, but Aziraphale heard it all the same and those three words pushed her desire higher. She reached over to tug at Crowley’s shirt in sudden impatience. Crowley chuckled as she ended the kiss, separating long enough to strip off her t-shirt and pull Aziraphale’s old-fashioned beige dress over her head. Smoothing down mussed blond hair with her slim hand, Crowley then reached around to remove the light blue bra she wore. She stopped her caressing long enough to admire Aziraphale’s large breasts. They weren’t pert like her smaller ones, but they were just right. Aziraphale was perfect with her lovely curves and rolls that Crowley could worship to her heart’s content. She blew on a nipple, causing it to pucker before rising and Aziraphale’s breath to hitch at the cool air across her naked body.</p><p>“You’re so reactive. I love it.”</p><p>Tonguing over a convenient nipple, Crowley began her slow tease. Aziraphale gasped, taken by surprise by the sudden action, but loving it all the same as Crowley worked her magic with that long tongue of hers. She loved giving breast worship. Every hitched breath, every moan, every small movement fed Crowley’s love for her wife. She could feel them in an ethereal sense, picking up on vibrations not of the physical world that fuelled her own desires as much as her actions were fuelling Aziraphale’s. She consumed it all greedily, flicking her tongue over one nipple then the other to further experience this loop of desire that existed between them. Pleasing Aziraphale pleased her in return.</p><p>Vaguely she felt Aziraphale’s hands in her hair, twining around her long locks before one meandered down her back, leaving light scratch marks here and there as it skipped along her spine. Crowley moaned in appreciation. The wonders of touch were sometimes enough. She could spend eternity under this apple tree with Aziraphale exploring each other’s bodies with their fingertips.</p><p>Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s desire as well, panting as the demon sucked harder at one nipple while rolling the other between her fingers. It was electric as Crowley pressed against her, the lace of her bra scratching against her side, the silkiness of Crowley’s bare skin touching her own, all those angles that made up the demon dulled by that soft skin covering them. Just as love dulled the sharp edges that were the result of six thousand years of mixed experiences before they were able to break away and <em> be </em>. Love was good for Crowley and Aziraphale adored her with all her heart.</p><p>Aziraphale arched her back in longing, the breast worship a satisfying tease of sorts. Reaching up she caressed Crowley’s bare shoulder, fingers skipping over the freckles that dotted it. She loved Crowley’s freckles, viewing them as a symbol of Crowley’s spark of goodness shining through. Someone who was truly evil wouldn’t possess such happy-looking markings, but it was Aziraphale’s way to put a positive spin on every feature of Crowley’s, whether it was a physical one or an aspect of her personality. Thinking about those freckles, she closed her eyes and groaned in response to the breast play.</p><p>It was then the clouds both of them failed to notice opened up, pouring down rain on the garden, breaking through the budding leaves of the apple tree to land upon them. They were cool enough to make angel and demon gasp as the drops splashed over skin. Aziraphale laughed. Crowley smiled as she looked up at apple blossoms bowing as they were hit with rain.</p><p>“Shall we let the rain fall or should I shield us?”</p><p>“I’ve never done anything like this in the rain.” Aziraphale snapped her fingers so now the rain pouring down on them was warm and comfortable, like when they experimented in the shower.</p><p>“All right, then. Back to it.”</p><p>Crowley grinned a rather mischievous grin a moment before Aziraphale felt herself hauled up, suddenly tipped up into a sitting position on top of Crowley with Crowley’s inhumanly long tongue reaching in to lick among her folds, searching for the right spot. Balancing with her shins on Crowley’s shoulders, she instinctively reached out and grabbed slim hands held up for her to grasp. Reassuring and warm they felt, and strong. Crowley was as wiry as a snake and retained the strength of that form. Aziraphale could lean her entire weight on Crowley’s arms, receiving no complaint from her wife. Nor would she be in danger of tumbling forward to the ground. With this solid foundation to hold on to, Aziraphale shifted herself so that she was kneeling on the blanket instead of precariously on Crowley.</p><p>
  <em> Get comfortable and don’t worry about me. Not like I need to breathe. </em>
</p><p>So Aziraphale took her advice and settled in to enjoy the tender ministrations Crowley was bestowing on her. Sensations built between her legs causing her to pant in muted excitement as her desire mounted. Crowley knew how to use that tongue so well and was proud of what she could accomplish. Aziraphale could feel it sliding along all the right areas, its soft surface pressing only hard enough to bring pleasure. Crowley would concentrate on her clit until she felt like she could not take any more before darting off to other parts until Aziraphale was calm enough for Crowley to resume licking more sensitive areas. This is how she built her angel up to a satisfying climax.</p><p>All the while rain dripped off Aziraphale’s body, adding a new dimension to the entire experience. Its warm wetness ran down her breasts and over her sensitive ribs, tickling and teasing like Crowley’s kisses could when she was indulging her in sensory play. Caressed by the rain while being warmed up by Crowley’s tongue brought her lust quickly to a head.</p><p>
  <em> Ready for an orgasm? </em>
</p><p>“Yes!”</p><p>The bottoms of Aziraphale’s feet began to tingle as the pleasure grew. Physical merged with mental, creating one large glowing feeling spreading throughout her body as it moved up her legs and out from her clit, warming every part of her body, ending in her fingers that became too lax to hang on any more. Crowley grasped her hands harder, not allowing her to fall as the all-encompassing avalanche rolled over Aziraphale, turning her moans into screams as it brought welcome relief in the form of the fuzziest softest feelings washing over her. Her thighs shook, and she rolled off Crowley to snug herself up against her side, the hair at her temples as damp as Crowley’s was.</p><p>Serpentine eyes turned to her, a smile following as Crowley brushed the hair out of her face. “There’s my angel. Do you need any more?”</p><p>“No, love. I must admit that was quite the powerful one. Let me rest and I can give you something in return.”</p><p>Mess vanished from her face, Crowley peppered Aziraphale’s face and neck in wet kisses. </p><p>“Mmmm, I’m fine. I love doing that to you. You don’t have to thank me for giving you a thank you.”</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“I’m positive. You can give me one later.”</p><p>The blanket was wet, but they paid that little detail no mind as they cuddled, their rain-dappled bodies as close as close could be. Aziraphale’s hair was plastered to her head while Crowley’s bra was wet enough to become see-through. The rain dripping through the tree and the smell of petrichor made it feel similar to that night long ago when they had stood on a wall as the first thunderstorm blew in before taking shelter in a copse of trees in the Garden itself to talk the night away. Crowley always suspected that night sealed their fates — it was the foundation on which their entire friendship-turned-romance was built. Hugging Aziraphale close one last time, she finally wiggled into a sitting position and offered a hand to her.</p><p>“C’mon, angel. Let’s get inside where we can dry off and have something warm to drink.”</p><p>Aziraphale agreed. Together they ran laughing to the cottage’s kitchen where they summoned towels to themselves from the bathroom, fluffy towels chosen by Crowley who would not settle for anything less than the best. Aziraphale was glad of that now as Crowley rubbed her hair dry for her before she returned the favour. Thick warm dressing gowns miraculously appeared on the back of the nearest kitchen chair, one in a beige tartan pattern, the other black with grey trim around the collar and down the open edge all the way to the belt. They helped each other into them, sliding sleeves on, wrapping the gowns up snugly and tying belts in place.</p><p>Cosy now, Aziraphale padded barefoot to the kitchen to make cocoa for them while Crowley got Netflix ready on the television. She turned to peek in the kitchen’s doorway as she pulled up the main menu.</p><p>“Want to catch up on <em> The Great British Bakeoff </em>?”</p><p>“That sounds lovely, my dear.”</p><p>Crowley cued it up and waited for Aziraphale to come snuggle in with her on the couch with two cups of cocoa. The rest of the day, and a good part of the evening, was spent binge-watching the show as they leaned cosily on each other sipping from their mugs. Night settled on the cottage bringing with it a distinct possibility their choice of television series would inspire a little cake baking of their own tomorrow.</p>
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